The Better Part of Valor
by fmapreshwab
Summary: The Flash has a problem, and there is only one person who can help, the last person anyone would go to for help.  Can the Flash learn to be subtle? Can the Question learn to trust? Rated for mild language and slash in later chapters.
1. A Nervous Hero

Disclaimer: I do not own…any proper noun in this story. The Question, The Flash, Hub City, Central City, Vic Sage, Wally West, Supergirl, no, not even the National Inquirer. These are all the property of DC and…I guess the National Inquirer. Anywho…I made no money, please don't sue.

A/N: If you've seen the JLU episode "Fearful Symmetry" (the one with the Galatea), then you know everything you need to to start this story.

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><p>The Question stood in the very center of his rooms aboard the Watchtower and considered. They were similar enough to Vic Sage's apartment in Hub City for him to have settled in relatively easily. He had brought copies of the highlights of his quest to track the Conspiracy, and three trench coats identical to that which he currently wore hung in the closet, topped by three matching fedoras. Although he never removed his mask (Vic didn't belong up here, and you really never could be sure who was watching), he had become comfortable here, and quickly.<p>

On a certain level, it bothered him. For a brief moment, he considered the possibility that Bruce had found his apartment and assigned him these quarters for precisely that reason, that his identity had been leaked to the others of the original team, perhaps beyond, that they wanted something from him other than his help and cooperation. He made a mental note to perform yet another sweep for monitoring devices.

Three small, quick taps at his door interrupted his train of thought. Question quickly crossed to the entrance. A strange man with a crooked grin and lightning bolts on his head stood in the doorway.

The Flash looked past Question into his room and grimaced slightly. "Dude, who does your decorating, the National Inquirer?"

Apparently the other man's eye had caught on his Conspiracy wall, in full view from the open door. He made another mental note. 'Find way to partially open mechanical door.' "Can I help you?" Question asked after a moment. He discreetly looked the Flash over, simpler without eyes on his mask. Although he was smiling, Question got the distinct feeling that Flash was nervous about something.

"I…uh," he started inarticulately. "Can I come in?"

Question hesitated a moment. Flash was young, still carrying the naiveté of his age like a badge of honor, but he wasn't stupid, as so many of the other new Leaguers believed. And despite being incredibly impulsive, he had never done anything Question considered questionable…no pun intended. He took a step back from the door, allowing the younger man just enough room to slide through the doorway.

Flash stepped in quickly and quietly, possibly sensing Question's intense desire to shut the door. His presence was a small mystery, perhaps lending credence to Question's earlier musings. But the only mystery the Question liked was a solved one, and he intended to get to the bottom of this one as quickly as possible.

Flash stood awkwardly just inside the door, as though he was waiting for something. The part of Question that was Vic Sage reminded him of one of the ridiculous social niceties for which he had little time and less use. "Sit," he said, trying not to sound too commanding. After all, he reminded himself, this was a person he was speaking to, not a dog.

The Question had little furniture that had not been provided for him here, and as such, Flash's options were limited. A small table stood in the corner of the main room, complete with a pair of chairs, and all of it was littered with newspapers. Again, Flash stood hesitantly, as though not sure whether to move the papers or sit on them. Question set the example by moving to the chair opposite that which the Flash seemed determined to use and piling the papers atop their counterparts on the tabletop. Flash quickly followed his lead and sat.

They stared at each other a moment in silence, which Question would have been glad to continue, but Flash started to squirm uncomfortably. It seemed Question would have to lead here, too. "What can I do for you?" he asked, using more words than necessary to set a lighter mood. The last thing he needed was to scare this man into silence as he had so many others.

Flash looked around nervously at the walls. The chair he occupied began to vibrate slightly. "I think maybe I oughta talk to you. To get some advice, I mean. I dunno, I guess I just thought, after the way you helped Supergirl with that whole clone…thingy, maybe you were the guy to come to with this."

For a brief moment, Question considered the implications of associating himself with someone who still tried to use 'thingy' in a sentence, superpowers or no. He waited.

"Lately, I kinda feel like I've been…being, y'know, watched…like, followed." He seemed embarrassed by the admission, but quickly covered. "I'm not really the paranoid type…" He trailed off, laughing nervously.

"And that's why you came to me," Question finished flatly.

"Right!" Flash jumped on his assistance, then reddened slightly beneath his mask. "I mean, no. Well, yeah, but…that didn't," he sputtered rapidly.

"I understand," Question broke in to assure him.

"Then can you explain it to me?" Flash asked with a weak grin.

"You might have a problem, and you came to me because out of all the people on this station, I'm one of the few who won't laugh or write this off as too many cheeseburgers before bed." Question almost smiled under his mask. He could actually see the wheels turning in the younger man's head.

'_Cheeseburgers? How did he—?_' The words were practically plastered across Flash's face. "Just so we're clear…you're not the one following me, right?"

"Trust me, when I follow someone, they don't catch on."

Flash hesitated. "It's funny. I'm not really sure whether or not that makes me feel better."

_Probably because I never actually answered you,_ Question thought. Aloud, he abruptly steered the conversation back to its original topic. "When did you first notice this…feeling?"

Flash thought a moment. "About a couple weeks ago, I guess. I kept hoping I'd shake it off or something, but…"

"Do you remember where you were?"

"Well, yeah, but, see, the thing is…" He trailed off again, but this time Question just watched him passively. "I wasn't really, y'know, Flash at the time."

_This may have just gotten serious._ "So someone is following Wally West."

Flash bristled. "Hey, how did you…" Question cocked his head slightly to the side. "Oh, yeah, right."

Question continued as though he hadn't been interrupted. "And you think someone knows who you are."

"Probably not somebody who wants to send me fan mail." Flash looked down at the table, and it seemed to Question that admitting his fear out loud had actually made it worse for him.

It occurred to him, then, just how much trust Flash had walked in prepared to give him. It was enough to lessen his earlier suspicions. Flash looked a little less nervous, but his earlier expression had given way to a lost, almost hopeless sort of look, the kind Question had never seen him wear in public. "If whoever is following you already knew, there wouldn't be any point in it," he said, and felt just the smallest bit of gratification when Flash looked just a little less lost. "But it will look suspicious if two known heroes show up snooping around."

"So you'll help me?" Flash asked, leaping out of his seat. Then his brain seemed to catch up with him. "Wait…are you saying…"

"The Flash and The Question can't be anywhere near this," he started sternly, then lightened his tone. "But if Wally West invited an old friend to town, it would be only natural for him to give that friend a tour of the city."

"And while we're wandering around…" Flash started, getting the gist of the plan.

"I'll be investigating." Question looked at Flash yet again, weighing his next move carefully. He tore a scrap from one of the newspapers and scrawled a seven digit number across it. He stood, then, and walked with Flash over to the door. "We'll go to Earth, and at two o'clock, you'll call this number from your apartment." He handed the page to the Flash without hesitation. "Remember, you're just a guy calling an old friend."

Flash looked at the seven simple numbers and seemed to truly understand what a heavy message they conveyed. He put his hand on Question's shoulder. "Thank you. Really." And in a blur of red, he sped away, leaving Question with only the residual heat on his shoulder as proof he'd been there at all.

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><p>Thanks for reading. More to come.<p> 


	2. A New Friend

Disclaimer: I do not own…any proper noun in this story. The Question, The Flash, Hub City, Central City, Vic Sage, Wally West…none of it. These are all the property of DC. Anywho…I made no money, please don't sue.

A/N: If you've seen the JLU episode "Fearful Symmetry" (the one with the Galatea), then you know everything you need to to start this story. Also, I have to say I'm surprised at how well this story has been received.

In response to a few of the reviews left, I'll post a warning in any chapters containing any involved slash. But if you noticed the rating, then you know that this story contains nothing graphic.

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><p>Wally West stared at the telephone in his hand and began to dial. He lay stretched out on the couch in his apartment in Central City, looking like he hadn't a care in the world. He had no idea what would happen when the ringing stopped, but he was prepared to give the performance of his life for anyone who might be listening.<p>

He'd felt paranoid and strange for the last two weeks, and he had finally found someone who believed him. And it hadn't made him feel anything but worse. The idea that there was someone out there watching his every move, following his every step, it bothered him on so many levels, not the least of which that level where he was the Flash.

He found himself reviewing the last few weeks in his head. Had he gotten careless and left his apartment in his costume? If someone had just been watching Wally, what would they have seen? Was it all that suspicious for him to disappear inside a building, sometimes for days on end? Would they have seen the Flash running out the back? After exactly three rings, the phone was answered.

"Vic Sage," breathed a comfortably familiar, gravelly voice.

"Hey, Vic? It's Wally." After a short silence on the other end, he began to hope like mad that he didn't have the wrong number. Was he supposed to dial one first? What about an area code? Maybe this was the Question's way of giving someone a brush off. What was he supposed to do then? He clamped down on the uncertainty and the panic. He'd had more than enough of that lately.

"Wally…Wally West? I haven't heard from you in ages." The voice on the other end of the line was almost charmingly friendly. "How've you been, kid?"

Wally found himself wondering just how much stood between this Vic Sage and the Question, how much of Vic's apparent joy was for show. "I'm good. You know, I was thinking about you the other day. It's been way too long, man."

"No arguments here," Vic replied wryly.

"I thought maybe you'd wanna come out to Central City. We can hang out, I'll show you the sights, just like old times." Under the circumstances, he thought he managed to project just enough light cheerfulness to make this believable. If his tone was any indication, Vic agreed.

"Love to," Vic declared, just a bit too loudly. Maybe Vic was just as bad at being happy as the Question. "Just give me the when."

"I've got some time free now, the next few days, I mean…" Wally led, waiting to see where Vic would take it.

"Hub City to Central, I can be there inside two hours. Just have to call the station, tell them I'm taking some time."

"Right, yeah. Hey, you need the address?" Wally's voice began to sound dull in his ears as he wondered how far to take the act.

"Hasn't been that long, Wally boy. I'll find it." Vic's voice rang with a finality that said "Let it die".

There was a dull click, and Wally got the feeling he was on the line with dead air. Hub City, Vic Sage; Wally got the feeling he'd just learned more about this man than anyone else in the League. He felt trusted, and it was a feeling he definitely liked.

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><p>A little over an hour and a half had passed, and Wally was watching TV when a sharp knock on his door brought his pulse up. He hated being this nervous, and it wasn't something he wanted to get used to. He walked over to the door and looked through the hole. All he saw was the door to the apartment across the hall. Curious, he opened the door.<p>

As he looked left down the hallway, he sensed movement behind him. Someone clapped him on the shoulder, and he whirled around to face a red haired man with a rusty smile. He was taller than Wally by just over an inch, and grinning like his face didn't quite remember how.

"Wally West," the man said slowly, and it dawned on him who this strange person was. "It really has been too long." He closed the distance between them and gave Wally a quick, almost fraternal hug.

Startled, but recovering, Wally managed to keep up the act. "Well, you know how it is, Vic, time gets away from ya. Well, not you I guess. You got out here pretty quick. Have any trouble finding the place?" Wally enjoyed being able to fall so easily into conversation with this man he'd never seen before.

"Nah. I got directions from one of those internet sites. Still have your address. Now grab your coat," he said, nodding through the door. "Dinner's on you tonight."

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><p>Wally settled into a booth at his favorite diner, Vic already in the opposite seat. He had his arms around the back of the booth and a small, easy smile hung on his lips. It struck him just how odd it was that this man could be the League's resident whack job in his down time. This was the man considered an oddball and a crackpot among the tights-and-cape types they both spent so much time with. But this was also a man that Wally felt he could have known outside the League, a man Wally could hang out with even without the Flash.<p>

Wally looked across the table at Vic, making his way through a plate of food at a speed even Wally had to admit was impressive. Vic sort of reminded him of Clark, but in reverse. Mild mannered Clark Kent became this awesome, imposing superhero at the drop of a hat. And here was Vic Sage, a man who looked like he could take on a biker bar full of angry, leather-clad men single-handed, who became a quiet, faceless everyman to fight crime.

"You know," Vic said thoughtfully, around mouthfuls of food, "A picture would actually last longer."

Wally realized that he had been staring and actually blushed. "Sorry, it's just…so weird to see you here." He floundered, trying to find the right words to describe what he'd been thinking without blowing their shared cover.

"I can understand that," Vic said amiably, with just the slightest undercurrent of the deepness usually present in his voice. His eyebrows inched slightly closer as his eyes shifted almost imperceptibly. "It's a little weird to be here."

In that moment, Wally saw another mask he hadn't even realized he was looking at slip away, and he wondered just who the Question really was. This might be his real face, and Vic might even be his real name, though Wally was far from sure on either count, but whoever Question was under his mask, this wasn't it. He felt a flood of disappointment, though admittedly not surprise. A man so…Wally decided on "security conscious", just showing up, saying "here I am, this is me"? He wasn't quite sure why he had expected it.

His thoughts must have shown on his face, because Vic gave him a measuring stare, the mask once again gone, and said in the low, familiar tone that Wally had only heard in space, "Wally, we should talk. Not now, but soon." Then the Vic mask was tugged smoothly back into place and the man smiled.

Wally grinned, trying to play it all off, telling himself that he was doing it for the sake of his cover, but knowing deep down that something more was going on here. He shuddered suddenly, feeling eyes on him, watching him.

"Something wrong, Wally?" Vic asked, a little concern seeping into his voice.

"Yeah, I just got this…I dunno, this creepy feeling…."

Vic quickly scanned the area around them, even while keeping his easy tone. "One of those 'walking over your grave' things?"

Wally nodded, desperately fighting the urge to look over his shoulder. "Yeah, something like that." There was a tremor in his voice that he could hardly believe. He once again told himself that it was all part of the act. He was the Flash, after all. He sped around bullets and ended world-domination plots for a living. No way he was scared by this…whatever it was. But he wasn't the Flash, not now, and that was what made this situation awful. Wally had never been anywhere near any of this. He thought for a moment about the identity issues being a superhero could bring up.

Vic reached across the table and put a genuinely reassuring hand on Wally's shoulder, eyes all the while darting around the room. "Shake it off kid. You'll be fine." Wally nodded absently as he finished off his third and final cheeseburger. Something about the familiar gruffness of his voice somehow managed to calm Wally. That was what Wally finally decided was wrong with this latest mask. The voice was almost unsettlingly noncommittal, especially for Vic's intense eyes.

Vic removed his hand and gave Wally a significant look. "Feel like catching a movie?"

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><p>Special thanks to Kyer, and Zolarix Aster for the support. More to come next week.<p> 


	3. An Interesting Approach

Disclaimer: I do not own…any proper noun in this story. The Question, The Flash, Hub City, Central City, Vic Sage, Wally West…none of it. These are all the property of DC. Anywho…I made no money, please don't sue.

A/N: I want to thank the readers and the reviewers for the great response this story has received.

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><p>As they left the diner, Vic turned back, patting his pockets and swearing lightly. The curse almost completely covered the tiny beep that came from the front pocket of his shirt as he tapped it. No one any farther from him than Wally would have even suspected that it had been there to be covered. Vic turned back to Wally with a grin and a shrug. "I keep forgetting that I'm not in my car."<p>

Wally nodded back, laughing just a little. "Afraid of letting someone else take the wheel?" he teased. He was falling again into easy conversation with the man now that they had left the diner, and that steadily more familiar feeling, behind them.

"Not you, Wally boy." Vic patted him once on the shoulder then turned to walk around to his door.

Once both doors had been slammed shut, a quiet beeping started to come from the glove compartment of Wally's old, rarely used car. Vic had made it very clear as they were leaving Wally's apartment that he did, in fact, mind walking everywhere. After all, he had said, he didn't have nearly the practice at it that Wally did. This was followed by a quick, conspiratorial wink and a short walk to the building's ancient parking garage. And a twenty minute search for Wally's car.

Vic reached forward to open the glove compartment. "Does it mean I need gas? Is that the "check engine" beeper?" Wally asked.

Vic shook his head, but he couldn't cover the laugh that Wally had drawn from him, although he could tell the man had tried. Wally felt an unexpected joy at causing such a reaction, even though this time the questions had been in earnest. "It's one of my surveillance detectors."

"One of? One of how many? How many surveillance…I mean, uh…" _Oh, crap,_ Wally thought. He had blown their cover. Wait, Vic had said it first. Which meant…

"Your car's clean," Vic said, completing Wally's thoughts. "Probably because you never use it. Still, I wouldn't have been so careless."

Wally looked over at him from the driver's seat, eyebrow raised. "Hey, not everyone can be THE Vic Sage."

"How many theaters does the city have?" Vic asked in a decidedly colder voice. Apparently, calling him Vic when there was no one around wasn't going to fly.

"Um…," Wally thought, caught off-guard by the sudden no-nonsense attitude. "Three. The closest is back there," he said, gesturing in the direction of the diner from which they had just come, "and the other two are over here," he said, indicating the direction in which they faced. The car had yet to move from the lot.

"Take us to the nearest theater that will get us away from the diner," he told Wally, pointing with his head in the direction he had already mentioned. Wally started the car.

As they had already determined that there were no listening devices in his car, Wally expected a quiet car ride to the movies, followed by an assumed continuation of a conversation they had never begun once they arrived. He was, then, understandably surprised when Vic uttered a single word as they pulled out into main-street traffic. "Seven." It wasn't explained, it wasn't expected, it wasn't understood.

"What?"

"You asked how many surveillance detectors I have. Seven."

"Why would you need seven scanners to pick up on…." What was it all these super-secret spy-types called listening equipment in all the movies? Wally floundered only a moment. "Bugs?"

Vic held up the device he had pulled from the glove compartment. He had obviously carried the device, the size of a small television remote, into the car with him, which meant that he had chosen one of the seven (Really? Seven?) devices which he could easily conceal. Or he had found Wally's car ahead of time, and only pretended to be as helplessly lost as the man himself during the great car hunt.

"Some are more portable, like this one. Some have wider range." Well, that made enough sense, Wally supposed. He found he was smiling. That would be just one more thing he knew about the Question when they went back to being masks and superpowers. Wally wondered, as Vic spoke again, if the man really could read his mind. "If you call me Vic when we go back, it won't turn out well for you."

"You know, you're going to have to learn to trust us eventually. Trust makes a team."

"And blind trust will make fools of us all. I don't trust until it's been earned." Seeming to forget he wasn't wearing a blank face at the moment, Vic smiled. "And they only call them 'bugs' in the movies."

The pair stepped out of the car laughing like they really were the old friends they pretended to be. They strolled casually up to the wall of posters, and Vic leaned in close to whisper in Wally's ear. "Which one of these movies has been out the longest?"

Wally gestured to a poster bearing pictures of large books and a pair of women's glasses. The red lettering across the top proclaimed the movie's title: "Laws of the Heart". Wally had seen commercials for this particular film some eight weeks back, and it was the only one posted that had been out longer than a month. He expected Vic to balk at the idea of sitting through some crummy romantic comedy, but he jumped on it.

"Oh, perfect," he said aloud, though he hadn't moved from just near Wally's ear. "Let's see that one. Hurry, it's going to start before we get in there!" Vic was consumed with what Wally desperately hoped was false excitement.

Wally grinned wryly. Not exactly the movie he had been hoping for, though next to that poster was one with an exploding car he'd actually been wanting to see, but he knew Vic had his motives. "Whatever you say, Vic."

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><p>After some well-reasoned arguing, Vic had allowed Wally to stop for popcorn. He kept saying that he didn't want to miss the beginning, or they'd be completely lost through the whole thing, but he refused to leave Wally alone. Vic shook his head in indulgent disbelief when Wally, looking at the extra large popcorn tub, asked if that was really the best they could do.<p>

"We _just_ ate," Vic said, half laughing as he said it.

Wally turned a blank stare on him. "And?" Vic laughed again and helped the other man with his mountain of junk food.

It was a small theater, but it was also a small crowd. As they entered, there were five people in the theater: a just-this-side-of-middle-aged couple sitting near the middle of the seats, and a trio of high school girls in the very front row. Vic led the way to the next-to-last row of seats, overlooking almost the whole theater.

Late as they were, two more people came in after them, interrupting the previews with the light spilling in from the hall. One was an older woman who climbed slowly up the stairs to sit behind them. Vic watched her climb, and Wally thought it was more than a little suspicious that she chose the only row behind them to sit in. The other was a twenty-something woman who chose a seat a few rows up from them, center screen.

After sitting through a few previews for movies that had already come out, and even for the movie Wally had actually hoped to see, the movie began. He could feel himself being pulled in by the movie, and soon he had forgotten why he had even come here. He stretched out as much as he could in the theater seat and settled in, tearing open a package of candy.

It was nearly an hour before he remembered that he was there with Vic, and only then when he whispered, "I'm going to…the bathroom. Keep an eye out." He walked slowly for the door. Wally watched carefully, ready to give a full report when Vic returned, which happened after nearly ten minutes had passed.

"Anything happen while I was gone," Vic asked in a thick, low whisper.

Wally grinned, prepared. "Yeah, so, he went to the firm to surprise her, but instead, he found out that she's not really a partner at all, but a para—."

Wally was interrupted by Vic's deep sigh. "Not in the movie," he said lowly, "with the girl."

"What girl?" Wally was starting to get that unsettled feeling again, and he knew that Vic knew why.

"The one who—never mind, we'll talk about it later. Watch the movie," he said sullenly, grabbing a fistful of popcorn.

The movie followed the same old romantic comedy plot, until just before the end, when the camera focus softened, the music swelled, the two main characters locked eyes from across the room, and—Vic began to snore softly. He wasn't even slumped in his seat. Everything about him was quiet and subtle, so much the opposite of Wally. He didn't even get shushed for interrupting the big moment. No one besides Wally even knew Vic was sleeping.

Wally glanced over at Vic again, and for a moment, it didn't even seem like Vic was breathing. Wally nudged him, and the snoring stopped. He kept an eye on the other man through the end of the scene, his focus on the story broken. Before he knew it, he had missed the end of the movie, the plucky secretary had been promoted, the philandering associate had gotten his comeuppance, and the credits were rolling. Wally gently elbowed Vic, trying to wake him. His eyes flicked open just as the lights started to come up.

Vic shook his head, opening his eyes wide. "Come on." He stood and led the way out of the theater as though _he_ had been waiting on _Wally_.

It was tricky, juggling all his trash and keeping up with Vic (without turning into a Wally-shaped blur), but he managed. He could almost swear that the containers weighed more empty, but maybe that was because Vic wasn't helping. Maybe he shouldn't have woken the man; he seemed to be in a bad mood since his nap was interrupted.

The sun was just disappearing behind the city's skyline as the two men left the theater. As they wandered out to the car, Vic patted his pockets and swore. He was mumbling something about his wallet, and he glanced back the way they'd come. Wally knew the drill, and he suppressed a smile when he heard the little beep coming from his pants this time.

Wally hopped into his car, getting used to the motion. He had driven more today than he had in the past…he wasn't even sure how long. The car had always been more for show than anything; he didn't want people to wonder why he never even considered going anywhere he couldn't run to.

Vic ducked into the vehicle after him. "You feel like going to for a walk?" he asked a little too loudly as he slid comfortably into the passenger seat. He slammed the door.

They waited in silence for a moment until they heard the beeping of Vic's device, signaling the all-clear. "Anywhere in particular?" Wally asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Vic was glaring at his scanner. "City park," he tossed off, distracted. He nodded to himself, as though his suspicions had somehow been confirmed, but he wasn't volunteering, and Wally wasn't sure how to ask. He grinned all the same.

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><p>"Laws of the Heart" is not a real movie. If you look for it, you will not find it.<p>

Next week's update might run a little late. It's Comic Con, people!


	4. A Strange Turn

Disclaimer: I do not own…any proper noun in this story. The Question, The Flash, Hub City, Central City, Vic Sage, Wally West…none of it. These are all the property of DC. Anywho…I made no money, please don't sue.

A/N: No actual slash in this chapter, but I will admit to some weirdness. Also, sorry for the delays. My poor little computer got sick for...a while there.

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><p>Fifteen minutes later, as they pulled into the parking lot of the Central City's Central Park, Vic was still frowning at his gadget. Wally had to know, he just had to know. Safe inside his car, Wally couldn't think of any time that would be better. "Is that thing a suspect or something?"<p>

Vic glanced up with a quizzical look, but didn't speak.

"You're giving that thing to look that Bruce gives me when I—that part's not really important. What's important is, you've been glaring at that thing since we left the movies. What's up?"

Vic's brow furrowed as he poked at some of the wires sticking out from the underside of the machine. "This is…odd."

It was a start. "What do you mean?"

"I understood it at first. You never use the car, and we were only in the diner a few minutes. But the car was left alone for ninety eight minutes, and still we aren't being monitored."

"And that's weird?"

"Odd," Vic corrected. "Any good professional would have had set equipment whether or not you used the car. A decent professional would have done it while we were in the diner. An amateur would have known to try while we were in the movie. It doesn't follow the pattern for this sort of work."

"So you don't think it fits?"

"It _doesn't _fit. What I want to know is why."

"And…hanging out in a city park lot will help us figure that out?" At this point, they had been sitting in the car for nearly five minutes.

Vic looked out the window, as though realizing for the first time that the car had stopped. He looked back to Wally. "Get out." He looked back to Wally. "Remember. Casual. Just showing a friend around."

"Yeah, yeah," Wally drawled as he stepped out of the car. He stretched as he stood. Man was never meant to sit while he traveled. It just wasn't natural. "Now this," he began, throwing in a little tour guide flourish, throwing his arms wide to take in their surroundings, "this is the difference between Central City and that smog hole you come from. Smell that air!" Vic took the time to look around as Wally gestured around, but the sun had gone down during their drive, and neither of them could see very far.

He snorted. "Yeah, a park is the only thing keeping Central from looking like Hub City."

Wally had heard stories about Hub City. He had heard it called, most notably, "Little Gotham". It was not a compliment. "Come on; let me show you what a park looks like."

"Hey," Vic snapped. "We _have_ parks."

"If it starts with the word industrial, it doesn't count." Wally grinned as he led Vic to the start of the path. To the right of the trail was a map, which Vic stooped to study closely. The Central Park was one of several in Central City, but it was the biggest. There were several trails, crisscrossing and meandering through acres of well-kept trees and grass.

After a moment of study, Vic led the way into the maze that was the park. They talked as they walked, first about the movie, then about Wally's job at the lab and Vic's job at the radio station. Wally laughed a little when Vic told him just how often his job did itself, about how it would be almost the same if he only showed up once a week or so.

Then they walked a while in silence, giving Wally some time to think. Vic had a plan. That much had been obvious since they had left the diner. But now Wally saw that something was different. Vic had a sort of an edge to him now, something that sort of reminded Wally of the big cats he saw on the Discovery Chan—okay, okay, "When Animals Attack". Still, Wally felt a little shock of relief every time he saw the look of keen determination in Vic's eye. Wally was confident that this whole mess would be sorted out soon, and it was the best he'd felt in weeks.

Wally let himself wonder what it would be like after this whole thing was over. He had come to like Vic, or at least the Vic that had been presented to him. He wondered if what he had drawn the man into would change anything. He thought about the Question, and how it would be if he were more like the other leaguers, open and loyal and willing to trust. Wally chuckled a little at the thought of it, shaking his head. He wouldn't be the Question anymore. He'd be the Flash.

"What's funny?" Vic asked out loud, and Wally realized he was still laughing.

Wally shook his head, grinning. "Just thinking about a friend of mine," he said, and he hoped it was true.

Vic took them around a corner, near a row of low bushes, and suddenly, as then rounded a stand of trees, there was a light ahead. It had begun to get so dark, Wally had thought maybe he should go back and try to find a flashlight in the car. Not that he really believed that he had one, but it never hurt to check.

They followed the path until they came up to a bench sitting below an old-style streetlamp in the middle of the park. Vic unceremoniously plopped himself into place, and Wally settled down beside him. Wally had begun to talk again when Vic quietly shushed him. "Stay here," Vic whispered roughly, in a tone Wally was more familiar with. Then, without a sound, he stood and followed the path. He didn't so much walk as he did glide, and within moments he had faded into the shadows.

Wally was starting to get that uneasy feeling again. He was nervous, and now he didn't have Vic around to make him keep up the act. He knew he was imagining it, but he felt suddenly cold. He crossed his arms and pulled them close around him, trying hard to keep himself from shivering. His foot was tapping, and he couldn't stop turning his head from one side of the path to the other.

Someone was out there, he knew, watching from the shadows. Someone knew where he was, someone could see him, and he couldn't do anything about it. Vic had told him not to go anywhere, and it was all Wally could do to keep from bolting at super speed. _I could be gone in a second_, he told himself. _I'd be back before Vic, he wouldn't have to know. _But then whoever was watching him would know his secret. They would win. They would have power over him that he couldn't let anyone have.

There was a scuffing of feet on the path off to his left. Vic had wandered off to his right, so whoever this was…. Wally made himself sit absolutely still, arms over the back of the bench, leg crossed over his knee, an easy smile, the picture of confidence. He wouldn't let them see him afraid.

There was too much noise for just one person. _Oh, no._ Wally hadn't thought of that. What if there was more than one? His whole apartment building could be watching him, the whole neighborhood, everyone at work, the whole damned city could be on to him! What then? Could he really be a hero if everyone knew? If any villain could just ask someone on the street who the Flash was? Oh, who was he even kidding? In the age of the Internet, the whole world would know in days.

No. No, no. He was just being paranoid. Lots of people came to the park after dark. Wally looked around. Now that he thought about it, maybe the spot was a little romantic. That would explain why two people were coming up the path together. Yeah, that had to be it. Wally tried not to turn his head as the noises got closer.

But he couldn't do it. His head whipped around, eyes wide, waiting for the first glimpse of whoever had happened across him. He held his breath as a shadowy form took the shape of…Vic.

* * *

><p>Vic slid through the darkness of the jungle that was Central Park. He had studied the map of paths and trails before they had set out, and he had decided that this would be the best spot. He had left Wally alone and unguarded, but it was a calculated risk. Their pursuer would have to stay a considerable distance back to avoid detection, especially with all the fallen leaves on the trail.<p>

At one point, the trail dipped into a sort of U-shape, with a bench at the bottom of the bend. Then it curved back on itself. Vic had thought the designers of these trails must have had some inkling of what they had created: the perfect ambush site. Wally was the bait, and Vic actually felt a tightness in his chest when he had walked away, something anxious and sad. He decided it was guilt, and he didn't like it. But it would come to that, he told himself. He would take out the threat before Wally became involved.

It was when he rejoined the original path that Vic began to suspect a trap of his own. The heavy feet trampled over the leaves, pushing aside branches and making one giant racket. Vic slid through the grass near the stone work, not wanting the soles of his shoes to give him away. But he paused. Perhaps this was what he was supposed to do, perhaps he had been planned for. Perhaps someone knew he was coming. But he was too far in now to back out; Wally was counting on him.

He sprung his trap, laying a hand around the girl's wrist and dragging her into the light, where Wally waited with his carefully assembled front. Vic could just make out the sweat running down the side of his neck and the shaking in his leg. He had been terrified. And Vic had let that happen.

He turned to look at the girl, still just inside the shadows, and he saw it now. Vic didn't know why he hadn't seen it sooner. He should have, he scolded himself.

Vic had first noticed the girl in the lobby of Wally's apartment building. He had noticed everyone in the lobby before they moved on to the garage, but she had stood out. The way her eyes moved, the way she carried herself, and the fact that she was the only person in the lobby without some obvious business there had made her an anomaly.

It had been a short distance from the garage to the diner, and the time between their arrival and hers, Vic had accounted for by her walking, rather than driving. It was the first restaurant one would come to on foot, and it seemed to be very popular, so he had tried not to think too much of it when she had popped up again.

The movie had settled it. As the girl walked in, Vic was sure of it. She was the last person into the theater, one of only two people sitting alone, and the only person in the theater Vic had seen before. She had been following them. Even so, it would be difficult to catch her at it.

Vic had almost thought she knew what she was doing when he had left Wally and given her a chance to take them out one by one. He had stood out in the hallway, waiting for her to follow him, but she hadn't. And when he reentered the theater, despite the fact that she was seated in striking distance, Wally was fine. And oblivious.

Vic had thought that perhaps the girl was smarter than that. He had been wrong. They had stayed in the car when they first arrived at the park and she, in the only other car in the parking lot, had done the same. She had waited for them to get out of the car, and she had followed them down the path. Vic had thought then that she was just very new, or her first assignment had been someone's idea of a cruel joke.

Vic hadn't seen it before, but he saw it now. She was terrified. He loosened his grip on her arm.

He realized then that had been going about it all wrong since the beginning. Even though he had told Wally that anyone who knew he was the Flash would have stopped following him, he had still believed that the man's secret identity was the cause of any undue attention. He shook his head in disbelief before stepping into the light. Wally's head whipped around.

* * *

><p>Vic was coming up the path. It must have looped back around. The place was a maze, anything was possible. And he had studied that map an awfully long time. But there was too much noise for this to just be Vic.<p>

And it wasn't. Vic was towing behind him a woman in her mid twenties. Wally supposed she was pretty enough, shoulder length blonde hair, round face, green eyes. But she didn't seem quite Vic's type. He raised an eyebrow to the man in question, cocking his head to the side.

Vic's eyebrows came together and his look was entirely disapproving. "You don't recognize her?"

Wally looked again. She did look a bit familiar, though anyone would if he looked at them long enough, he though. The frustrating thing was, Wally was beginning to think he _did_ know her from somewhere, but he couldn't for the life of him remember where. It was the feeling he got when the tune of a song got stuck in his head, but he couldn't remember the words.

But the more he looked at her, the more Wally knew that this was no evil mastermind, no agent of any dark force. She didn't even look like she knew how to scowl, or laugh maniacally. She just looked like any other girl he might have saved while speeding around the City. Maybe he had been wrong about that fan mail.

Wally looked at the girl again, and something clicked into place. "Hey, don't you live in my building?"

"Um…close. I live in the one across the street. I'm Shelly," she said, reaching her hand out. Vic took a defensive position between the two of them, and she backed up.

"Shelly," Vic started coldly. "Tell us why you were following him, or I'll call the police." Wally shook his head. It wasn't often he thought of the police as someone to call for help. But then, how often did he really _need_ help?

Shelly looked at Vic, uncertain, but then she turned to Wally. And she told him. She started the story a little over two weeks ago. Some mail from an apartment across the street had been put in her slot, and she was just trying to return it, that was all. When she walked into the lobby, she had seen Wally, and he had winked at her. Vic shot Wally another disapproving glance, but Shelly didn't notice.

She had dropped the mail off and walked out of the building. Wally had been walking down the sidewalk the way she had needed to go anyway, and it wasn't like she was following him, but she walked along the sidewalk behind him. He had turned to go into the diner, and after all it was lunch time, and she had been hungry, so she went in, too. She had been meaning to try that place, anyway. And it had grown from there.

She hadn't meant to be creepy about it, but he was cute, and she wanted to ask him out, but she wanted to make sure they had enough in common first, so she knew she wasn't wasting her time. "So you followed him," Vic interrupted. "But it was only to make sure you were enough alike."

"Exactly. I wasn't being weird, I just wanted to make sure we were…compatible. Like you hear about on the commercials for those Internet dating sites. I wanted to make sure we liked the same movies and books and stuff."

The girl was shy, but assured. She had followed a man for two weeks, into his apartment building, restaurants, theaters, shopping malls, everywhere she thought she could blend in, exhibited classic stalker behavior, and she didn't think she'd done anything wrong.

"But then, I saw you with this guy," she said, tilting her head toward Vic. "At first, I thought you guys were maybe, like, frat brothers. You know, Alpha Beta Ginger, or something. But…come on." She shrugged.

Vic frowned, and Wally stared at her in confusion.

"Really? Dinner, a movie, a romantic walk in the park…." Her raised eyebrows and "well, duh" expression didn't help the two men to see her point. "Anyway, I guess I'm just not your type," Shelly said with a sigh, turning to leave.

The two men watched her go in silence, until Wally turned to Vic with, as always, a good intention. "Do you know any good therapists?" More than anything, he felt sad for the girl and her strange delusions.

Vic met him with a look as blank as his mask. _Right_, Wally thought reproachfully, _stupid question_.

Vic blinked. "Maybe Bruce does." Then Vic smiled, an easy, natural, fantastic smile. And he laughed. And Wally laughed. They sat on the bench under the lamplight for some time, laughing and enjoying the night.

* * *

><p>Wally woke up the next morning happy. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this happy, and it could only get better from here. No one knew his secret, there was no crazed hero-assassin on the loose, no one wanted him dead or hurt or anything. He could go back to his life without worrying. And not a day too soon; the stress he'd been under had been enough for Wally to be chewing holes in his lip.<p>

He walked out into the living room to see that Vic was no longer asleep on the couch, but standing in his kitchen, staring at the cabinets.

"I mostly eat out," Wally explained, seeing that the cabinets were both open and empty. "Come on, I'll buy you a thank you meal. Maybe I can show you around Central. For real, this time." In the time it took Vic to turn around, Wally was dressed in jeans and a casual Saturday T-shirt.

"I'm going back to Hub City today." Wally tried not to let his disappointment show. Vic's face was closed off and his voice was low and clipped. This was the man he had always imagined behind the mask, and Wally knew things would be going back to the way they were the second they set foot on the station again. But then Vic smiled. "I wouldn't say no to breakfast at the diner."

* * *

><p>Tune in next week (hopefully!) for the optional finale!<p> 


	5. An Eventful Homecoming

Disclaimer: I do not own…any proper noun in this story. The Question, The Flash, Hub City, Central City, Vic Sage, Wally West, Batman, Superman, Supergirl, Green Arrow, Green Lantern…none of it. These are all the property of DC. Anyway…I made no money, please don't sue.

A/N: As per our agreement, readers, I will tell you that this chapter contains some implied slash. As I said earlier, nothing graphic. Also, this is the final chapter. I know it's been a long ride, but this is the end of the road.

* * *

><p>The Flash stood in the hallway with Supergirl and the Green Arrow, making polite small talk. His eyes darted around the corridor, clearly looking for something, but Green Arrow was too busy listening to whatever it was Supergirl was saying to notice. Wally's laugh came less than half a beat after theirs, and it seemed almost natural. He was almost sorry he hadn't been listening to whatever had been so funny.<p>

Supergirl finished her story, Green Arrow got in a last comment, and they all split ways, just in time. As Supergirl walked away and Flash made to move down the hall, Green Arrow caught him by the shoulder, a strange look on his face. "Hey, kid, you okay?"

Flash grinned. "Yeah, I'm fine." The other man's hand was just a little too close to his neck, but he wasn't sure whether or not it was intentional.

"You sure? Lately you've been a little…," he trailed off, waiving a hand in the air.

Flash looked at Green Arrow, unsure. He could see the eyes darting back and forth beneath the older man's mask, as though he was looking for something in Flash's own eyes. "No, I'm good." The blonde man held his eye a moment longer, then the moment was over, and Green Arrow gave him a quick slap on the back and went to follow Supergirl down the hall.

Flash continued on his way. But not for long. John Stewart, as always, had the worst timing. "Hey, Flash, I've been looking for you."

"Um, hey, GL. I'm actually a little busy right now…." He trailed off without further explanation, not wanting to lie to his friend.

John looked skeptical. "Where you headed?" he asked.

"Mission briefing," Flash lied, grimacing even as he said it. "Y'know, small operation, Earthside. I won't be gone long, we can catch up later."

John held his eye for a moment, then nodded. "Good luck. Come find me when you get back." He turned and walked down the hall, and Flash ducked into a room just off the corridor.

* * *

><p>John walked down the hall and turned just in time to watch Flash speed into one of the rooms along the corridor. They were in what John thought of as a "residential neighborhood", which meant that Flash was in someone's quarters. This wasn't his room, which meant he was visiting someone. Someone he had been embarrassed to tell his best friend about. John found that just interesting enough to check out. He wandered down the hall, muttering about small missions and their briefings, until he found a computer panel along the hallway.<p>

As a member of the Original Seven, John had access to almost everything in the station's computer system, and it didn't take long for him to figure out who, exactly, lived in the room Flash had been so eager to duck into. After telling John he was headed to a mission briefing. It stung just a little.

John was more than a little shocked to find that the door Flash had sped through belonged to none other than that paranoid recluse, the Question. Just thinking of the man and his eerie blank face was enough to send a shiver down John's spine.

It would have been easy enough to catch Flash in the lie, but now, knowing who he had been in such a hurry to rush off to see, he wasn't sure he wanted the truth. He, like most of the others, had heard the stories; the conspiracies, the investigations into fellow leaguers, the just plain creepy manner the man had of dealing with people.

He had caught up to Supergirl and Green Arrow while looking for a terminal. He looked at the two heroes in front of him. Yes, the man had helped Supergirl, and yes, he had been right about the conspiracy angle. Once. And surprisingly enough, Green Arrow seemed almost to be taking a liking to him.

But John didn't trust the Question, and he couldn't imagine what it could possibly be that Flash had to go speeding into his room for, but he was almost sure he was better off not guessing. So he strolled away with a false ease. He shrugged to himself as he rounded a corner. If he really began to suspect the worst, he thought, he could always ask Batman.

* * *

><p>Batman imagined that this was what people meant when they said something was like watching a train wreck. Morbid, transfixing, irresistible; no matter how much you wanted to look away, you couldn't. He sat in his monitor room watching a live feed, and, for the first time in a very, very long time, he had no idea what to do.<p>

Batman had had to tell himself as he installed this latest set of cameras that he was doing it in the best interest of the team. Batman was not used to such moral dilemmas. This was the fifth set of cameras to be installed in Question's room in his thus far short stay on the station, and Superman had tried everything to keep him from disabling or destroying the last four.

Superman had told the paranoid detective that they were emergency procedures for worst case scenarios only. He had told the man that only Batman himself would ever view the footage, and even then only in extreme cases. He had offered to turn over the recordings once a week to be dealt with or destroyed in whatever manner the Question saw fit.

All this, the Question had stood and listened to without sound or motion. After, he had stood silently just long enough for the Bat to wonder if something wasn't wrong with the man. And he had turned on his heel, walked at a deliberately casual pace back to his room, and disabled every camera within fifty feet of the center of his room. That had been several days ago, the third set of cameras.

Batman had had little hope for this set of cameras, but that didn't mean he would give in. Good of the team, he had told himself. After installing the cameras, he had gone into his private monitoring room to see what fruits, if any, his continued and diligent labors would bring. Batman had known something was different when Question walked into his room after his return from Earth and not immediately activated a scanner or jammer to counteract the new surveillance equipment. This had been the case anytime the man had left the room for more than an hour.

Something about the Question's abrupt and unscheduled trip planetside had piqued Batman's interest, and he had been watching the man with increased tenacity since his return.

After having been gone just under a day, Question had gone into the cafeteria to sit alone at a corner table and not touch the spaghetti he had purchased. Everyone in the room had his or her eyes on the silent faceless man at one point or another, except one. Flash, whose departure from and return to the station had been near enough to the Question's to be merely interesting, was now deliberately averting his eyes from the other man. Batman elevated the status of the two men's simultaneous trips to suspicious.

Vic had teleported to and from a phone booth on the corner of two small streets in Hub City, which Batman knew to be his home and base of operations. Flash had teleported to an empty warehouse down the street from his apartment in Central City, and come back from within the apartment building. Granted, the two weren't exactly the Twin Cities, but for Flash, cities a world apart might as well down the street from one another.

Batman had sat with something like a smile tugging on his lips as Flash stared deliberately down into his food. They sat facing one another, but with two tables between them. Those tables were conspicuously empty. Question rose, carrying his tray with one hand and burying the other in the pocket of his trademark trench coat. Batman's eye drifted back to the Flash, who sped through the remainder of his meal as though he had not eaten since he left the Tower.

Question took a meandering route through the station, while Flash sped directly to the corridor immediately across from the door to the other hero's rooms, where Green Arrow and Supergirl happened to be standing. He engaged in conversation with them until he spotted the Question opening his door, found a way out of the conversation, bumped into the Green Lantern, then sped through the rapidly diminishing opening in the wall.

All of which had led Batman to the situation in which he now found himself. He was staring at the large central monitor in his room, which displayed the recently installed cameras in the Question's room. The detective hadn't made it three steps before the Scarlett Speedster zoomed in. Papers were scattered all around the table in the main room, and more were being pushed to the floor. Neither seemed to care.

Batman couldn't look away. He wanted to look away. He had no reason not to look away. He now knew what it was about the trips that had caught his attention, he knew why the Question didn't want cameras in his room, he knew why Flash had been acting so strangely lately. But he couldn't look away, and he was almost sure he knew why. It had to have been the Question's idea, had to have been. They were both still wearing their masks.

* * *

><p>Well, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed it, and thanks for coming along for the ride.<p> 


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